


A Circle's Just A Line That Doesn't Know When To Quit

by HarveyWallbanger



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dialogue-Only, Gen, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Phone Sex, Public Sex, incarceration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarveyWallbanger/pseuds/HarveyWallbanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a shadowplay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Murder Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> It's a sequel to "Love Lines"!  
> Libertango is the name of a song by Grace Jones.  
> I am not involved in the production of Gotham, and this school is not involved in the production of Gotham. No one pays me to do this. Do not try any of this at home. Thank you, and good night.

You're trying to make an enemies list for a Gotham City police officer. What are you going to do, start with 'everybody', and narrow it down, from there?  
No, there has to be someone in particular who's capable of this. This requires planning, skill. It's not something that a common criminal could put together.  
Uh, yeah, it is. Framing someone for murder is against the law, so whoever did this is a common criminal.  
I mean-  
I know what you meant. So, what do you want to do?  
I don't even know where to begin. I suppose that I should look through old newspapers, try to make a timeline of Detective Gordon's career.  
There might be another way.  
What is it?  
It's... kind of weird.  
Weird, how?

Hey, how old are you? Sure, it matters, honey. It matters to the cops, the FBI, and probably your parents. I'm hanging up. Really. And where did you meet Jeri, a sock hop? Oh. Her, too, huh? Well, you know everyone, don't you? Okay, honey, what do you want? And no funny business- you're still a kid, and just because you say the right names doesn't mean I'm going to compromise my principles. Yeah, I know about that. Who doesn't? What do you care? Oh, he did. How did that work out? So, if he failed you so miserably, why do you care what the hell happens to him? That's sweet, but I don't know how I'm supposed to help you. I can't give out that information. I don't even have it; someone else does our billing. No, I will not. They don't give us real names, kid. Would you give a real name? Okay, honey, sure, and I'm Marie of Romania. Okay, okay, fine. I don't need a letter of recommendation. You're Bruce Wayne, I believe you. So, Bruce Wayne, what do you think I can do for Gordon? How much? Okay. I have tapes. Tapes of the Johns- well, some of them are Janes- on the phone. Why do you think I have them? Meet me at- do you have a pen?- meet me at the Satyricon- It's a club, honey. It's the only one I can think of that might let you in. Go to the bar, and ask for Lady Grace. And I'd better see Cat with you, or you're S.O.L., honey. 'Surely Out of Luck'.

_I'm behind him- Jim, I mean- standing over him, with a scalpel's blade pressed to his throat-_  
I don't want to listen to this.  
Don't be such a baby. I'll listen to it.  
 _I cut his throat-_  
I don't want to listen to it, either.

Well, if it isn't Bruce Wayne. What interesting company you keep. I heard that you dropped my name to an old friend.  
Lady Grace, you mean?  
The very one. What can I do for you?  
We were wondering- I was wondering if you could listen to some tapes for me.  
What kind of tapes? School recitals? Swing choir practice?  
They're from Lady Grace. They're people who call a number to talk about, about-   
It's a phone sex line about Jim Gordon.  
So, she's still doing that. She told me business was slow since her old boss left town, but she always thought this kind of thing was beneath her.  
Will you listen to the tapes?  
Why can't you do it?  
They're, they're-  
They're fucking nasty.  
Language, Cat- this is a family show. Okay. I listen to your tapes, and what?  
Could you give us a summary of the nature of the calls? Is there anyone who stands out as having any unusual interest in Detective Gordon? Unusual for this context, that is.  
Like the throat-slitting guy.  
Well, you've piqued my interest. Yes, I will listen to Gracie's dirty phone calls. Yes, I will give you a summary of what I hear.  
If you can, will you list any possible identifying details? Names, places, anything that you think might be relevant?  
I will.  
Thank you, Jeri.  
Don't mention it. This is cheaper than going out, and it sounds like it's more fun, too.


	2. Cold Stick

Hello, Stevie?  
Stevie's sick, honey. You got me.   
Oh. I need to speak to Stevie.  
Well, what's she usually do for you?   
This is the first time I'm calling.  
Then, how did you hear about us?   
I saw the phone number written on the bathroom wall in the Gotham City police precinct. There was a note that said 'Ask for Stevie'.  
Oh, all the way there? Are you going to arrest me, Officer?   
I'm not a police officer.  
Then, what were you doing in the bathroom at the police station?   
I'm a criminalist.  
I don't know what that is.   
I work with the police. I collect and process evidence, and assist the Medical Examiner in the completion of her duties.   
Oh. Okay. So, what were you looking for?   
Jim Gordon needs to suffer.  
I agree. He's done some nasty things to a lot of good friends of mine. Do you want to hear about them?   
Not especially.  
Well, why don't you tell me a story, then?   
I'm with him, at work, where I examine the bodies, the cadavers. We're alone.  
I like it, already. What's it like down there?   
It's very cold. A low temperature is needed to preserve the tissue against degradation.  
Yeah, I guess it would be cold.   
He's always there, watching what I do.  
So, he comes to see you a lot, huh? How does that make you feel?   
I feel like I'm being spied on. I'm angry.  
I would be, too. But you like it.   
No, I don't.  
Of course you like it. Or you wouldn't have come to me.   
I don't like it. He imposes himself on me.  
Don't fight it, honey. You can hang up anytime you want to. Is that a dial tone I hear? No. I don't hear that, at all. Just your breathing. So, you're down in your morgue-   
It's not the morgue; it's an examining room.  
Okay, you're down in your examining room.   
It's on the second floor. Why do you keep saying 'down'?  
I don't know- it just sounds like it'd be in a basement. You're up in your examining room. And it's so cold. And he comes in. And then, what? Does he shiver?   
He never shivers, no matter how cold it is.  
No, he wouldn't. It'd be too human.   
He's very... hard.  
I've heard that about him.   
I'd fuck him.  
I'll bet you would. Is that what you're going to do, now?   
Yes, on the examining table.  
Does he lie down on the table on his own, or do you make him?   
I make him. This is for my pleasure, not his.  
Oh.   
I'm going to hurt him. I'm going to do things to him that he can't imagine.  
Oh. Wow.   
You've never heard anyone talk about him like this before?  
Actually, I haven't. Most people swing the other way, if you know what I mean.   
They're not sexually interested in men?  
No, I mean that most of them like it when he hurts them. Not the other way around.   
He's hurt me.  
Oh, he has. What did he do?   
He committed an act of supreme cruelty.  
He does that.   
He sent my friend away.  
Sent him where?   
To Arkham Asylum.  
That's rough, honey. I had a cousin who went there.   
What happened to them?  
Well, I don't have him anymore, obviously.   
I'm behind him- Jim, I mean- standing over him, with a scalpel's blade pressed to his throat.  
So, what do you do, now?   
I cut his throat.  
Isn't that messy?   
The table has drains. It's for the dissection of corpses.  
Oh, the table has drains. Huh. I've never seen one of those before.   
I changed my mind. I don't actually want to kill him. Not yet.  
It's okay. You can change your mind.   
I want him alive. I'm going to inject him with a paralytic, and work on him, then.  
That must be nice- working around all those drugs. So, what do you give him?   
Succinycholine.  
I don't know what that is.   
It's used during surgical procedures, to keep the patient still. It paralyzes him, but it doesn't render him unconscious.  
Oh. So, he's awake the whole time.   
Yes.  
Wow.   
I touch him. His skin is very soft.  
Do you know this from personal experience?   
No. But someone once told me that it is.  
He must moisturize. What do you think he looks like?   
Nude, you mean? I've seen him without his clothes on.  
Oh, you've seen him.   
We work together, so it's not out of the question that I would come upon him in the locker room, changing his clothes at the end of the day.  
Yeah, I guess that would happen. Where can I sign up for your job?   
What are your qualifications? Do you have a four-year degree in forensic science? They won't look at your resume if you don't have at least that.  
No, I don't have a four-year degree in forensic science.   
It's a difficult job. One has to have a certain level of intelligence.  
Well, I'd like to see you do what I do all day.  
I'm sure that it requires its own set of specialized skills. I meant no offense.   
That's okay, honey. I accept your apology. So, he's in your examining room, and you have him on the table, and he's not dead, but he can't move.  
I've taken off his clothes.   
So, you take off his clothes.  
He has a big cock.   
Yeah, I'm sure he does.  
He's fully erect.   
But how can he do that if he's not even conscious?  
He is conscious.   
Well, yeah, he's conscious, but he can't move.  
It's an automatic physical response. One can bring it about with manual or oral stimulation. In this case, I would use oral. I want him to enjoy it. I've been told I'm very good. This will even work postmortem, depending, of course, upon factors like time of death, and livor mortis.   
Oh. Oh, wow. I didn't know that. Tell me that you don't know that from personal experience.  
I've done a certain amount of research into the topic. I'm a scientist.   
Well, if it's science, I guess it's okay. And then, what?  
I straddle him.   
You must be flexible, honey.  
I do a lot of yoga.   
Well, you'd have to, to get yourself into that position. I know some girls who can't do it.  
Why, is it especially painful?   
Not so much when you're doing it, but you're going to be sore for days, afterwards. Forwards, or backwards?  
Forwards.   
Yeah, so you can look into his eyes. Can he have an orgasm, like that?  
Orgasm, like erection, is an involuntary physical reaction. Even under the influence of a paralytic, one may still climax.   
Wow. Okay, you can't know that from personal experience.  
Again, I've done some re-   
Honey, stop right there, unless you want me to hang up on you, and dial 911.   
I've done some reading that makes me think that my hypothesis is sound.   
That's better. Let's just keep this hypothetical. Like, you think that you could make him come. You don't know.  
Yes. It's just a fantasy.   
Well, fantasy's what I'm here for. What are you doing, now?  
I'm fucking him. I'm fucking myself, while I'm talking to you. I'm very close to orgasm.   
I'll bet you are. Dead people can hear you breathing. How do you think you'd feel, riding him, when he's like that? When you take his hands, and move them over your body? And you tighten around him. After you've had your mouth on him, all over him. I'll bet you could make a dead man come.  
Oh. I'm- I can't-  
Yeah. Do it. Say his name for me.   
Jim.   
Say it again.   
Jim.  
And again.   
Jim.  
One more time, honey.  
Jim.

There's one guy... who is effed up. Even for the people who call this number, he has problems. He really wants to hurt Gordon. He might even do it. Though, I don't know if framing him for murder's his style. He seems like he'd want to do something more personal.   
Do you know anything about him?  
He works in the police station. He's in forensics.  
Thank you, Jeri.  
No problem. I'm not done. There are a few more that I have to listen to. I might have more information for you next time.   
Yes, next time.   
Shoo. I have things to do, now.  
Let me-  
Put your money away, Bruce. This is too much fun for me to get paid for it.


	3. Prick Up Your Ears

It's Harvey.  
Hey, there, cowboy- haven't heard from you in a while.   
Been busy.  
Hmm...   
I said I've been busy.  
Say that again.   
I've been busy. Are you having some kind of Pavlovian response to my voice? Like, all I'd have to do is talk about the weather to make you come?  
No, no, I'm not understanding you. You have to-   
I can't talk much louder than this. I'm in the bathroom at work.  
Oh. You like to live dangerously. But what if someone hears?   
Fuck them.  
That's a good attitude to have.   
Like they'd care, anyway.  
Well, I'm sure they'd care.   
Probably. Half of the people working here are fucking pervs. They should be paying me to listen to this.  
Yeah, hmm, that's what I've heard.   
I told you about that guy in the morgue. I walked in on him with his face pressed to a mirror, once, like he was going to tongue his reflection.  
Oh, I can't wait to hear about that.   
Yeah, but I'll bet you want me to finish the one about me and Gordon, down at the docks.  
You left me in suspense last time, you naughty thing!   
Yeah, well, you started talking about you and your girlfriend fucking your way out of a traffic ticket. I got distracted.  
Oh, I'll tell you all about that, but first, you have to finish your story. But before that, I want to you to tell me what you're wearing.   
What the fuck, Denise?  
I just like to get an accurate picture.   
You want my vital statistics, too?  
Well, I know what you look like!   
Yeah, a hang-over in a cheap suit.  
You're so funny.   
I'm fucking hilarious. If it'll help you get off, I'm wearing the brown plaid tie.  
You know I love that tie.   
Yeah, I know, Denise.  
So, you took him out to the docks, and...   
Fuck, let me collect my thoughts. I was pretty out of it that day.  
No, I understand. You wouldn't want to be completely there. You need to pull back from the situation.  
I was so fucking drunk, Denise, I didn't notice that the guy wasn't dead. Isn't that fucked-up? Twenty years a cop, and I can't tell the dead from the living. But I was so fucked-up.  
Well, of course you didn't notice, if that were true. Sometimes, it's only later when you put it all together. Sometimes, you remember the weirdest stuff. The sea air in your face.   
The way the wood of the dock creaked in the wind.  
Yeah. But how did you feel when you knew that he was lying?   
Jim? I fell in love with the son of a bitch. I'm that fucking stupid.  
No, I understand. I really understand, honey. It's not stupid. It's a normal way to feel. What did you want to do, after that.   
I wanted to kiss him.  
Where?   
Well, on the mouth, Denise.  
No, I mean, like, your actual location? At the precinct, or what?   
At the dock. I wanted to take him back there, to where he'd made a fool of me.  
Yeah. So, where did you want to kiss him? Now, I mean, where on his body.   
His mouth.  
His mouth. And where else?   
His neck.  
And his neck.   
His mouth. Again. I don't want to stop, Denise.  
And his mouth, again. How does he feel? Is he surprised? Does he want it?   
Yeah. He's surprised, at first. At first, he doesn't know.  
I think he does.   
That he wants this? What makes you so sure? I mean, I'm no prize, but it's your partner, you're working together, late nights, you expect a guy to make a move, if he's that way inclined, just to get off. Not him.  
You hear things.   
Anything real?  
No, not anything concrete. It's just what people say.   
That he fucks men?  
People say that about him.   
Fuck them.  
Are you jealous?   
Yeah. I'm fucking jealous.  
Good. I like it when you're jealous. Do you want to bite him, to make him yours? Do you want to bruise him?   
No. I don't want to do any of that. He doesn't belong to me.  
I guess that you're the last romantic left on earth. Do you keep kissing him, or do you do something else?   
I'm still kissing him.  
You keep kissing him. Won't you want more?   
Old bones, Denise.  
No, no- I guess you can wait. Do you want to touch him?   
Yeah, but not yet.  
Do you make him beg?   
I'm begging him.  
Oh, you're begging him. Are you down on your knees?   
That wasn't just a double entendre about old bones. I couldn't kneel to pray to God, never mind to Jim Gordon. Shit hurts like a son of a fuck.  
Yeah, I guess that would hurt. But how does he feel? How does he taste?   
Do you want to know?  
You have to tell me. Don't leave me in suspense again.  
I don't know. You sound like you're almost there, from what I've been giving you.  
That's true, but you're full of the spirit of charity.  
No. I'm full of Jack Daniels and antacids. Where's your hand, Denise?  
Where I wish your mouth was.  
For that, you get something extra.  
Are you going to tell me where your hand is?  
Where do you think it is?  
Where you wish his mouth was.  
Very good guess.  
Thank you. You can reward me, now.  
I have my hand down his pants.  
Yeah.  
He wants it.  
Oh, he does.  
His mouth is open. His lips are soft. I kiss him. I bite him, but not hard. I don't break the skin. I don't want to hurt him.  
No.  
I just want to sharpen him up, you know. I want him to really feel it.  
That's good.  
He's hard, in my hand, and he's wet. And we're back at the docks. Where he lied to me, and made a fool out of me. And I love him for it. Do you know why that is, Denise?  
Mmm... Why?  
Because it's the first time anyone's made me feel anything in years.  
Oh, Harvey.  
It's fucked-up, and it's stupid, but I have to feel a certain amount of gratitude. He's kissing me, sort of dumb, like he's drunk. He just wants more. More of me.  
Harvey.  
That's my name, Denise.

If this guy's to be believed, he's a cop, and he's Gordon's actual partner.  
No way. I know that guy!  
Detective Bullock?  
No last name. His first name, though, is Harvey.  
It's him.  
Well, what does he say?  
Selina, it's private.  
Oh, come on- all of this is private. What makes his weird crap more private than anyone else's?  
Does he say anything bad about Detective Gordon, Jeri? Does he seem like he wants to hurt him?  
No. Quite the opposite, in fact.  
Then, it's not him.  
Yeah, but-  
Selina. It's not him.  
He does, however, mention someone else. The one with a less benevolent interest in Detective Gordon.  
What does he say?  
Not much, but it seems like our buddy wasn't lying about working as a forensic technician.  
That's interesting.  
Is it? I'm glad you think so.


	4. Suck

Stevie.  
Mmm, this is Stevie. Who's this?   
No names.  
Okay, you don't have to tell me. But this is going to be a little impersonal if I don't know what to call you. You could say, Call me Ishmael.   
Fish tale?  
No, Ishmael. It's from a book. Morbid Dick. I read it in high school. What do you want to talk about?  
People call this number to talk about- Jim. Detective Jim Gordon. To... fantasize about him.  
That's right. That's what we're here for.   
So, what happens?  
I could tell you something. Or you could tell me something.   
Why are you doing this?  
Why do I do this? I needed a job, and NASA wasn't hiring.   
Oh.  
What do you like?   
I want to hurt him.  
Oh, you want to hurt him. That's fun.   
But first, I want you to tell me something that you know. Anything.  
I heard a story from a friend of mine, about a big building that was seventeen stories high. It was a big glass cage that looked like a needle. And in it, people did crazy things. There was this guy who used to make them fight for money.   
Yeah. Richard Sionis. He wore a mask.  
That's right. A big lacquer mask, like you'd buy at Pier 1 Imports.   
Why did he do it?  
I don't know why. They say that he was just some bored rich guy. But I don't know how you could be bored with all of that money! Some people say, though, that he was looking for someone who could beat him. None of the people he saw in that big glass castle were tough enough.   
But Jim was.  
Until one day- that's right. Jim Gordon beat them all.   
How did he beat them?  
Well, if it were a fairy tale, it'd be because he was pure at heart. I heard a story, though, that he's an experiment that escaped from Arkham.   
What?  
You know know about what they do in Arkham, don't you? There's a doctor in there, cutting people open, to see what they're made of.   
Arkham's just a hospital. That's a lie.  
No, it isn't a lie. I knew someone who was there. They were on a seventy-two hour hold, because they told the wrong person about something they saw, and before their lawyer got them out, they said that they saw people strapped up in a torture chamber. My friend wouldn't lie.   
I've b- I've heard that it's just a place. Just a hospital. People go there to get well.  
Well, you have bad information.   
Who do you know that was there?  
Why do you want to know my friend's name? I could just make up a name.   
I'm a police officer.  
Okay, yeah, and I'm the Queen Of England. Now, who's a liar? If you don't want to play, I'm hanging up.   
I'm sorry, Stevie. Please don't hang up.  
Okay. I forgive you.   
What else do you know, about what happens at Arkham?  
What else? Well, it's just what I told you. My friend was talking about some poor guy in a chair with wires stuck into him. And then, I have this other friend, who actually worked there, until he got fired-  
What's his name?  
Why do you want to know that? Are you a cop? If you are, you have to tell me.   
I just told you I was, Stevie, and you didn't believe me.  
Oh. Well, you wouldn't be the first one. I know my rights, Officer.   
That isn't my title. There are different levels of responsibility within the department. I'm a detective.  
Oh.   
You didn't know that?  
No, I didn't know that. You're all 'Officer' to me. So, Detective 'what', then?   
Detective Gordon.  
Now, who's the liar?   
I'm not lying, Stevie.  
Fine. Don't tell me. I'm hanging up.   
Don't hang up. Please. Do you need my full name?  
Just a first name is fine.   
Oswald.  
Okay, Oswald. Officer Oswald- that sounds like a cartoon character. Is it your first name, or just your last name?   
It's just Oswald, Stevie. You said you didn't need my full name.  
Oh, okay- like Cher. Are you calling because you know him? There's a girl here who swears that one of her regulars knows him.   
Who is it? The regular.  
I'm not going to tell you that! Anyway, I don't know his name. Just that he's old, he's drunk a lot, and she knows him from when he used to be in uniform. He actually arrested her a few times. Isn't that wild?   
What if I guessed correctly? Would you tell me his name?  
Well, I guess if you guess, it's not like I told you. But you only get three-   
Is it Harvey Bullock?  
Oh. You didn't need three guesses. Huh. How did you know?  
I got lucky.  
So, you really know all these people?  
Do you believe I'm a cop, now?  
I sort of have to, don't I? Well, what do you want, Detective Oswald?  
Since I guessed who it was, will you tell me what he says? To your friend?  
Your voice is kind of sexy when it's low like that. Okay. But you have to talk to me, too. Will you do that?  
Yes, Stevie, I will.  
Good. I don't know a whole lot. Just that this guy-  
Harvey Bullock.  
-Harvey calls Denise a lot. She likes him. A lot of the people who call are very selfish, but some of them talk to you like you're a real person.  
That's important.  
It is! Sure, we're doing a job, but we're still human. Some of us do it because we actually like it.  
The people who take the phone calls, you have... feelings about Detective Gordon.  
Well, yeah. There are a couple of girls, here, who don't get off on it at all, and that's okay for them, I guess, but I don't think I could fake it.  
No. You seem like you couldn't.  
Thank you, Oswald. Well, Harvey calls Denise, and he tells her all kinds of things. About Jim.  
Like what?  
Well, he's in love with him- Are you okay, Oswald?  
Yeah. I'm just getting over a cold.  
You sounded like you were choking.  
I'm okay. Keep going.  
That's a nasty cough. You should drink some hot tea with honey. Harvey's in love with Jim. Harvey tells her this story, and it's always the same story, but slightly different each time.  
What's it about?  
She won't give me all the details, but it's something about a murder.  
A murder? You should go to the police.  
But it didn't actually happen. Jim was supposed to kill someone, at the docks- and it's the funniest thing, but I think I was there.  
You were there.  
Yeah. Sometimes, on cold days, I go there, to smo- to relax. You can hear the water and the wind, and it's like being on a boat, in the old days. I'm small, so I can find lots of places to hide. I was wrapped up in a coil of rope- you know, like sailors use- when I heard this car pull up. It was so loud, I thought my head was going to split open. So, I looked up. And I saw him.  
Who?  
I saw Jim Gordon.  
Really.  
It was him, I swear! He was all tall and gold- I know what he looks like. He almost threw me out a window, once.  
He's sorry about that.  
No, he's not.  
He is. He told me to tell you.  
That's sweet. So, I saw him, there, with- hey, maybe it was Denise's guy! This older guy, who looked kind of out of it. And there was another guy, in the trunk of the car.  
What did he look like?  
Short. Sort of... black and white.  
Black and white?  
Yeah, and red all over.  
What do you mean by that?  
Oh, he was really pale, and had black hair, and he was wearing a white shirt and a black suit, but there was blood all over him.  
And what happened to him?  
Jim shot him.  
But he wasn't dead. How's that possible?  
Well, what Denise told me is that Harvey was drunk off his ass, so he didn't realize that Jim had just pretended to shoot him, and that this guy- the black and white guy- had jumped into the river, or something.  
But it was a cold day. How could he survive that?  
I don't know, Oswald. This is just what Denise told me. And when Harvey found out, he was furious! He was more afraid than he'd ever been in his life.   
He was.  
Yeah! He thought that all of these people he'd made promises to were going to come after him.  
But that didn't happen.  
No. He was lucky.  
Jim almost got him killed, but Harvey's in love with Jim.  
That's what Denise said. I don't get it, either.  
You don't understand?   
I mean, Harvey's just, like, a masochist. He knows Jim doesn't want him, but he'd still do anything for Jim.  
He's his partner.  
No. It's not that.  
He loves Jim.  
But why?  
Why?  
Denise has never explained it to my satisfaction.  
Love is mysterious.  
I guess. Now, it's your turn. You have to tell me something.  
What do you want to know?  
Tell me how you'd hurt Jim.  
I don't know how I'd hurt him.  
Okay. I can help. Would you hit him?  
I suppose so.  
Do you want to bruise him, make him bleed?  
Yes. I do that a lot.  
I'd do it a lot, too. He's so pretty, and sometimes, you want to break pretty things.  
You think he's pretty?  
You don't?  
I suppose...  
He's beautiful. But he's cold.  
Cold.  
He's barely alive.  
He's alive.  
He doesn't feel things the way normal people do.  
Is that why you want to hurt him, to make him feel?  
I don't know, Oswald. Is that why you want to hurt him?  
Yes.  
That's good. Do you want to cut him?  
Maybe. Yes.  
You want to see his blood.  
Yes.  
What else do you want? Would you fuck him?  
I- I can't answer that.  
Okay.  
Do... a lot of people? Want that?  
Yeah! Most of them do!   
How do they do it?  
It depends.  
What about Harvey?  
Denise says that he just talks about kissing Jim.  
Oh.  
I know. It's sort of dull. There's this one guy-  
Yeah?  
I don't know if I should tell you this.  
You can tell me, Stevie.  
You could be tracing the call.  
If I were, the police would have already broken down the door.  
I guess you're right. There's another girl who works here. And she got- well, she gets all of the weird ones. But she got this guy who was looking for me. He found the phone number written on the wall of the police station bathroom. Isn't that wild? Is that how you found me?  
Yeah.  
He was talking about killing Jim. And then, he was talking about drugging him, and doing it to him when he was out. In the morgue.  
The morgue?  
He works in the morgue. I'm glad I didn't talk to him. I don't want to hear that. So, would you fuck him?  
Jim?  
That's right.  
I said I didn't know.  
You know.  
I-  
How would you do it?  
I-  
It's okay, Oswald. Nothing you're going to tell me is going to shock me. Unless it's about murder, or something. I don't like that. But sex isn't scary. Do you kiss him?  
No.  
Do you touch him?  
Yes.  
How?  
How?  
Yeah. Are you rough?  
Yes.  
Are you inside of him?  
Yes.  
Does he like that?  
Yes.  
Does he come?  
Yes.  
How does he feel?  
Feel?  
When you're inside of him.  
He's-  
Yeah, Oswald?  
I have to hang up, now.

This one, Jeri's keeping to herself.  
But she'll tell the kids- she'll tell them-

Really, nothing else?  
Nope. It was just a lot of hot air.  
Well, thank you, Jeri. If we- if I can ever be of any help-  
Yeah, I'll call you up. At stately Wayne Manor. Your butler can show me to the library. We'll discuss business, there.  
I mean it, Jeri.  
I know you do.


	5. Libertango

There are others, too. That no one needs to know about. The two women who call. One cries. They both cry, actually. But one cries all the time. One has a baby; Jeri can hear it, also crying, in the background before the woman hastily excuses herself. One speaks in a voice barely above a whisper. Jeri's not sure that it might not be the same one, trying to be quiet for the baby. They both tell a similar story, using slightly different words. The revelation of love. The hot haze of desire. Betrayal. Being discarded in favor of another woman. Abandonment. Isolation.  
The morgue guy calls again, to crow about having finally done it to Gordon. Done what, asks the girl on the phone. This time, it's not Grace, but another girl, who just sounds bored with the whole thing. The morgue guy says that he fucked Gordon, and when the girl starts perfunctorily going through the script- How did you do it? What was it like?- the guy just mutters something about not being appreciated, and hangs up.  
There's someone who sounds young, who asks the girl to just stay on the line and listen to him. All he does is laugh. Jeri likes to think that Grace put that one on the tape just for her. Just in case Jeri was listening.


	6. Inside Of the House

When he finds the sick fuck who's been writing this shit in the bathrooms, the janitorial staff are going to be scraping that creep off of the walls for a week. It's in green marker, too, garish and ugly.  
Barnes can't look at Bullock. He can't look at any of them. Everyone knew that Jim was his favorite. Jim knew, which is probably why he thought he could get away with this. No one sins like the beloved.  
Then, Barnes goes home, and it's worse. At the station, at least, are the relics for him to sift through. The broken pieces that Jim left behind. Barnes feels at home among them. He should. He's one of them.  
Your love doesn't go away, even when it twists into hatred. It just starts hurting in a different way. You want to use it to hurt someone else.  
He dials the fucking number. Even if he told them his name, they wouldn't believe it.  
A woman's voice says, Hello.  
“Is this that Jim Gordon phone number?” Of course it is. Christ, he feels stupid.  
“That's right. What can I do for you?”  
“I'm not talking to a woman. Do any men work there?”  
“Yeah, we have a couple.”  
“Give me one of them.”  
“First, I need to transfer you to our billing department-”  
He hangs up.  
Fuck.  
He dials the number again.  
“I'm sorry,” he says, “My phone died, and the call was disconnected. You were going to transfer me to the billing department.”  
“That's right. Hold on a second, please.”  
The girl who answered sounds way too young to be doing this kind of stuff.  
“This Jonelle in Billing. I'll be handling our transaction.”  
“Hello,” he says weakly.  
In a daze, he gives his credit card number to this pleasant stranger, who informs him that the charge will come up as 'J and G Telecom'.  
“Good to know,” he murmurs.  
“Now, you were interested in speaking to a gentleman, instead of a lady?”  
“I changed my mind,” he needs to pull back, to make this less real, “I'll take the girl who answered the phone.”  
“I'm afraid that Stevie's on another call right now. But Grace is available.”  
“Yeah, fine.”  
“Hold on just a second, please.”  
“Hi, honey,” says Grace, who's obviously a lot older than Stevie, “What can I help you with?”  
“I need to tell you about Jim Gordon.”  
“That's what I'm here for.” He hears the whoop of a lighter's flame. “What do you want to tell me?”  
“I had him.”  
“Did you? Why'd you let him go?”  
“I mean, I had him. I fucked him.”  
“I'd love to hear about that.”  
“It was-” Christ, he can't tell her that it was at the fucking station, “We were someplace private.”  
“Good, honey. You can tell me more.”  
“He did something. Something inexcusable. Something I didn't think he was capable of.”  
“I hear that that's his stock in trade, these days.”  
“It wasn't like that,” Barnes protests, “He isn't like that.”  
“Okay, honey. I don't know him; you do. What is he like?”  
“You'll try to beat it out of yourself, that you love him. But you'll fall apart a long time before you can convince yourself that you don't feel that way.”  
“He's a heart breaker,” she says, and he's forced to agree.  
“I didn't start out wanting him. I told him that he was like a son to me, and I meant it. But I. I lost control.”  
“It happens.”  
“Not to me.”  
“It happens to everyone.”  
“We were alone. We shouldn't have been alone. But he didn't want anyone else there. He sent them all away. And he was looking at me, with this expression of dread, and horror, but behind that- I'd never seen a living man look so serene. He didn't just know what was coming; he was already in it. I wanted to hit him. I could feel myself doing it, like it had already happened. I didn't hit him, though. I was ready to leave the room. I was going to go home, get drunk. Sleep. But then, he said the same thing a hundred rotten, no-good crooks have said to me. He said, Don't you want to know why? You never ask why. If you start asking that question, you're going to ask another, and you'll never stop, until you've talked yourself out of doing your job. I told him No. He asked, Did I want something to remember him by? I thought I was already drunk. Or he was. He looked like he was dead, on the inside. So, I said Yes.”  
“What happened after that?”  
“I told him to get on his knees. I wanted to kiss him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I had my hands on his face, in his hair. I caught myself comforting him. I let him suck me until I'd almost come, then, I told him to get up.”  
“What did he do?”  
“He got up. I bent him over the table. I spit in my hand.”  
“What did he do?”  
“He just took it. I pushed the tip in, and he made this sound like- I thought he was going to come.”  
“Did he?”  
“No. Not yet. Only when I was completely inside of him.”  
“How did he feel?”  
“Like he was part of me. After that, I couldn't see him again, but I had to.”  
“Were you in the trial?”  
Shit. He didn't even consider the possibility that these people might just guess who he was. He didn't care. He doesn't. “Yeah,” he says. Jonelle already has his name. It's easy enough to make up a story about identity theft. Gotham's a lawless place. “I saw him after that, though.”  
“Where did you see him?”  
“I went to Blackgate.”  
“What was that like?”  
“He looked dead. His face was white, like he hadn't even been allowed yard time. He had a black eye, but you could hardly make it out for the circles under his eyes.”  
“What did you do?”  
“I let him jerk me off, but I think he just wanted to touch someone, and he didn't care how. I held him.”  
“And what else?”  
It's like she knows. “Before I left, I said to him, I know you were telling the truth. I know you were set up for Pinkney's murder. He said, Yeah? And he looked, for a second, almost hopeful.”  
“And what happened then?”  
“I said, I don't care.”


End file.
